Taking the Leap
by TheGirlwiththeSilverPen
Summary: He couldn't remember what, exactly, had possessed him to agree when Cas suggested they go tandem bungee jumping. Maybe he'd wanted to challenge himself, to be a supportive boyfriend, or something. Clearly, he was an idiot.


**Author Note:** Helloo lovely people of fanfiction net! I didn't mean for it to happen but somehow it's been six months since I last posted something on here?! In any case, I'm glad to finally be back c: This is a birthday fic I wrote for my friend Anoja (you can find her on tumblr at _alloftheseemotionsstuff_ ). I've always wanted to go bungee jumping, so I decided to live vicariously through Dean and Cas. I hope you guys like it!

* * *

It was the oldest rule in the book, but Dean broke it anyway.

He looked down. Past the railing, past where the ledge dropped away into nothingness, to the river that wound through the canyon below.

They were miles above it.

His stomach lurched, that awful 'oh-God-I'm-going-to-puke' feeling snaking its way up his throat. That had been a bad idea.

Actually, he was beginning to think this whole thing had been a bad idea.

They were one week into their road trip across the West, and everything had been going swimmingly up until now. They'd stopped by all the kitschy roadside attractions and sent enough postcards to put _The Notebook_ to shame. Cas had taken a ton of pictures – all artsy angles and vintage filters – for a scrapbook he was compiling. Then they'd hit Arizona and made a detour to the Navajo Bridge, because bungee jumping off it was on Cas' bucket list.

Dean was aware that he didn't have to _participate_ , yet here he was. It had all happened in a fast-paced blur, like one of those fight scenes in an action movie. And this was the moment where everything came to a halt, delving into sickening slow-motion as a spray of bullets pierced the antagonist's chest. He couldn't remember what, exactly, had possessed him to agree when Cas suggested they go tandem bungee jumping. Maybe he'd wanted to challenge himself, to be a supportive boyfriend, or _something_.

Clearly, he was an idiot.

He cast another glance downwards. An image of the two of them lying broken and bleeding in the river flashed through his mind. He could picture it now: their faces splashed across every newspaper; morning show segments using their tragic demise as a cautionary tale; family and friends breaking down in tears at their funeral–

"Dean."

"I'm fine," he said, a knee-jerk reaction. The lie was painfully transparent. Probably due to the fact that he was a sweating, shaking mess. God, this was worse than the time he'd had to fly interstate for Sam and Jess' wedding.

Cas frowned, forehead lined with concern. "You are definitely _not_ fine."

"I _am_ ," he insisted.

The harness felt too loose and too tight all at once, and Dean surreptitiously pulled at the straps. He glanced at the instructors who stood a short distance away, debriefing the next group. Part of him wished they'd hurry up and let he and Cas jump already. The wait was almost more excruciating than the fear itself. Almost.

Cas' hands wrapped around his own, and Dean turned towards him with a sigh. "If you're having doubts about this…"

"No, I want to do it. I just…" He took in a shuddering breath. "…I mean shit, _we're_ _really fucking high up_." He fought the urge to look down again, instead focusing on the swirls of ocean that were Cas' eyes.

"How can I help?" came the serious response.

"I don't know," Dean laughed, a strangled sound that barely escaped his throat. "Say something to keep my mind off the fact that there's a 450 foot drop ahead of us."

There was silence as Cas considered this. It was the sort of quiet that preceded a storm, the air thick in anticipation of lightning.

"Alright," he said, finally. He squeezed Dean's hands, gave him a tentative smile. "Will you marry me?"

Dean blinked. And blinked again.

"What?" was all he managed to choke out.

"Will you–"

"Are you serious?"

Cas' smile broadened. "Yes, Dean, I'm serious."

The questioning tilt of his head, the almost imperceptible crease between his brows, all of it came into sharp focus. Dean stared at him, at his tanned hands and his stupidly long eyelashes and the way the sunlight framed his hair like a halo.

He was beautiful.

And he wanted to be with _Dean_. Willingly. For the rest of his life.

"I'd love to– I mean I want…if that's what you want. Cas, you know I–" he stuttered and stumbled until the word ' _yes_ ' left his mouth amid the others. Then he settled for grabbing the front of Cas' shirt and closing the already minimal space between them.

It was a sloppy kiss, all bumping noses and clashing teeth. Far from perfect, yet perfect all the same.

When they pulled apart, Cas leaned his forehead against Dean's, their breath intermingling. "I was going to wait until we reached Los Angeles," he said. "Propose in front of the Hollywood sign. I had it all planned out."

"You're a nerd," Dean said, and kissed him again – properly this time.

Everything narrowed down to a single moment; Cas' lips, the slight graze of his stubble, his hands carding through Dean's hair.

That was, until someone spoke up from beside them.

"I was going to apologise for the delay, but it looks like you've made good use of the time."

Dean turned with extreme reluctance towards their instructor, who was watching them with barely concealed amusement.

"I'll just check your harnesses and you're good to go," he grinned.

He stepped forward to begin his inspection. Dean's heart plummeted.

450 foot drop. Near-certain death. Right.

They were promptly given the all-clear and ushered through the gate and on to the tiny platform. Dean was struggling not to hyperventilate. But Cas' gaze anchored him, steady and reassuring, and the roaring in his ears quieted ever so slightly.

The instructor gave them an enthusiastic thumbs up.

"Ready?" Cas asked.

Dean nodded and leaned into him, squeezing his eyes shut. "As I'll ever be," he said, voice muffled into the soft fabric of his shirt.

Then they were tumbling downwards. Dropping like dead weight. Dean's stomach swooped as violently as a bird diving for unsuspecting prey.

The initial terror gave way to a feeling of weightlessness as Cas' arms tightened around him. His laughter skipped past Dean's ears, light and infectious, and Dean finally gathered the courage to open his eyes.

The entire world was spinning. Red cliff walls and green river water and blue, blue skies. A rapidly shifting kaleidoscope of colour, breathtaking in its beauty.

And Dean thought that out of all the people on Earth to spend forever with, nobody could compare to Cas. Because he made falling feel like flying.


End file.
